Elena's POV:
If I had to describe my current situation in one word, it would be infuriating.
The more I tried to escape, the more Ace became romantic.
I swear, it was like every failed attempt just made him more patient, more attentive, more charming—which only made me hate him more.
And he knew it.
The bastard enjoyed it.
It was my third day here when I realized that my bedroom had a balcony.
A tall one.
With no stairs.
But still—better than nothing.
I had spent hours mapping out the guards' rotations, waiting for the moment they were furthest from my room. The balcony was my best bet—a long drop, but if I could use the vines on the wall to climb down, I'd have a chance.
I had made it halfway down before a pair of strong arms yanked me back up.
Ace.
"You're determined," he had murmured, amusement in his voice as he effortlessly pulled me back onto the balcony. "I like that."
I shoved him. Hard.
He barely moved.
